


The Final Battle

by joyster



Series: The Beauty in Imperfection [6]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, War, Zutara Month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 06:46:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10825941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyster/pseuds/joyster
Summary: There had been something off about Azula during the comet. But that didn't mean that they were any safer.





	The Final Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Zutara Month 2015 Day 6: Somebody to Die For
> 
> My take on what the direct aftermath would be if things didn't turn out so well in that final battle  
> Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA, some dialogue in this directly quotes episodes.

Her heart stopped. 

Her mouth went dry. 

The fire dissipates and he’s there on the ground. He tries to get up but instead he spasms and then he’s down again, groaning. She wanted to go to him, more than anything in the world at that very moment. More than she wanted to take down Azula. More than she wanted to end the war. 

But Azula is not one to be ignored and there is lightening shooting towards her followed by flames and she’s forced to wait to help Zuko. 

“Zuzu, you don't look so good!” 

Katara needs to neutralise her. Zuko was right – something’s off; she’s unstable, off her game. Azula’s mocking and taunts only harden Katara’s resolve. 

He needs her. 

It’s why she’s there in the first place. He can’t take Azula alone. He needs her. 

He needs to be ok because she needs him too.

The world needs him. 

She needs to take down Azula so she can help him. 

It’s like her mind and body are separate as she fights the unhinged princess. Her instincts drive her and in some ways all her thoughts are _how can I stop her long enough to get to him_. Her mind plays the image of him jumping into the line of the lightening over and over. 

Stupid. _Stupid_. She doesn’t matter. The fate of a nation isn’t entwined with her destiny. His life actually means something. 

Then she’s in water with Azula, tethering her to the grate with chains as the Princess struggles. She lets the water down, secures the chains and lets out a laboured breath. 

Zuko.

Her feet can’t carry her fast enough as she’s practically tripping over herself trying to get to him. He has rolled onto his back. He’s grimacing. She can smell cooking meat…burning flesh. Azula’s screams serve as background music as she tries to listen to his heartbeat. 

He coughs, a puff of smoke escaping his lips as he does so. 

“Thank you Katara”, his voice is choked and his head starts to loll. She catches it with a hand, making him look at her. He’s wincing.

“no, no, no, Zuko you can’t do this to me now.” Tears well up in her eyes and she shuffles closer. “We won Zuko, We won. You’re the Fire Lord”. Another cough followed by a groan. “You can’t be down that easily, okay? OKAY? YOU CHASED US AROUND THE WORLD!” She’s hysterical, Azula falls silent (as is her brother) and Katara yelled, tears falling freely down her dusty cheeks. 

“It was really dumb what you did back there,” her voice barely above a whisper. She looks away and plays absent minded-ly with his shirt. 

He gives her a weak smile and with clear exertion wipes a tear from her eye. She bends water to her, (re-drenching a steam dried Azula) and taking the tears from her shirt. 

“I don’t matter Zuko. Do you see it? My life is disposable. But you,” both her hands are on his face, the water enveloping them glows and the small cuts begin to heal. She rests her forehead on his and she’s crying. 

“You’re special Zuko. You are important. You have the power to make a real difference. You matter,”

“But Katara…” he speaks so slowly, like every syllable is a struggle… she wants to shoosh him, tell him to rest. She moves her hands back over the entry wound and feels a vague jolt go through her body as the last of the electricity transfers into the water. “You matter to me.” His voice is barely over a whisper now and Katara is cursing Azula internally as she watches his spirit fade, his skin becoming ashen or perhaps that’s her imagination or the dust. Her heart clenches. She ignores the feeling that her healing isn’t making a difference.

“I…I…” He’s looking at her in the eye but his head is starting to grow heavy and his jaw slack, “l-lo…love-“

Silence. 

“Zuko?” his eyes roll back and a final puff of ash escapes his parted lips, “ZUKO!” 

She pushes his eyelids closed ever so gently then softly kisses him. In her mother’s stories a kiss fixes everything.

Nothing. 

She pushes on his chest and tries to restart his heart and breathe for him. 

Azula lets out an ear piercing scream which transforms into a mournful wail; the girl thrashing against her fetters. 

The tears are in free fall and she clutches him, dragging his lifeless weight into her arms, crying uncontrollably. 

“No. No. No. No.” becomes her mantra, recited under her breath as she strokes his back, his hair, his face and wills him back to life. “Don’t do this to me Zuko!” He’s so heavy, she feels so weak, “we were supposed to do this together.” Her voice cracks, “You were always there chasing us, you’re invincible, you can’t be...” She sobs against his neck, laying him back down on the ground and curling herself against his left side. 

She traces his scar with her finger tips; her crying now little more than strangled breaths and streams of tears, “You’re not supposed to leave me like this. You’re a fighter Zuko.” She tilts his lank head towards her, staring into his peaceful face. She presses her forehead to his and squeezes her eyes shut. “I LOVE YOU! YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE” her hands caress both side of his face, his arms are loose and at awkward angles. One of his knees is bent out in a way that would be painful. 

He can’t feel pain anymore. 

His father can’t do anything more to hurt him…

Regardless of how everything else goes, at least he has found peace. 

\- - - 

They find her there. Curled up in the foetal position by his side with her hands grasping at his tattered shirt and dirty trails on her face where the tears had been. Sokka rushes to her side as quickly as he can in the cast. He drops to the ground, places two fingers to her neck then his. 

“Her heart’s beating but hi-”, he doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead grabbing on of the fallen prince’s arm and crossing it to the opposite side of his chest in a Water Tribe stance of dignity. The other arm was being held tightly by his sister. She made no noise. Her eyes were barely open and seeing nothing. She had no tears left but was still sobbing silently, her breathing shallow and body quivering. 

Toph stands back and, for what feels like the first time, says nothing. Suki puts a hand on her shoulder and in an instant the young girl is wrapping her in a tight hug, burying her face deep into Suki’s chest piece and silently letting the tears fall. 

Aang lands his glider about to report that he didn’t find them in the palace when he stops. “No…” slips out of his mouth as he clutches painfully onto his glider; he inhales through his teeth and drops his head.

She’d been lying there almost a day. Azula was asleep or just catatonic in chains metres away and had been since dawn. She’d wailed almost constantly for hours after Zuko’d death. Katara refused to move. 

Eventually, after their arrival, Hakoda managed to detangle her from her friend. He carried her as if she were a small child that fell asleep by the campfire and was being taken to bed. She fussed until she could see him, see his body, being carried alongside hers by his uncle, who had steady streams of tears silently pouring down his face. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to live. Continue to grow, be remarkable and change the world. Katara knew that if she could she’d trade with him; she wished she was dead if only he would still be alive. 

\- - - 

She didn’t speak for three days. 

Wracked with guilt and shame for not being able to save him. 

He is cremated instead of coronated, in front of his country and the rest of the world. He died a hero and was honoured forever to be remembered as a man who faced adversity, was raised by a demon but chose to strive for peace and good with unquestionable honour. His name would be synonymous with diligence and humility. He would be mourned by the world. 

When Iroh was crowned Fire Lord it was with a heavy heart. 

\- - - 

It is the night of his funeral that she first speaks. They are in the palace and she’s curled up on a lounge chair in a bedroom that smells like him. She hasn’t eaten since the battle but she drinks water just so she is hydrated enough to cry more. She stares blankly at a portrait of him and a beautiful woman she assumes to be his mother. She’s so exhausted she can’t cry. She can’t feel anything. 

When the door opens she barely hears it. 

Iroh settles beside her. He has no tea. He isn’t trying to get her to eat. He isn’t eating either. 

She curls into the old man’s side. 

“So much for someone so young to battle with…” he says softly. She isn’t sure if he’s talking about Zuko or her but she nods all the same and nuzzles her head into him. “My dear, you have to forgive yourself.” 

He kisses her forehead and she once more feels like an infant. “My Nephew died for you to be safe, do not let this life go to waste.” He raps his fist against the bed post and servants come in with a bowl of pain rice. “I heard about how your father found you last night sweet girl, please do not allow Zuko’s sacrifice to be in vain. I do not pretend to know if you were intending to be face down in your element but I know that you are smart. You have a responsibility, dear. You need to live for him now, make him proud. Live to the potential that he saw in you. I trust his judgement, Miss Katara, that you are somebody worth dying for.”

When she spoke it was unclear if it was aimed toward Iroh or her late friend. Her mouth struggles to form the words as her lips quiver; all the emotion is still so raw. It’s only two words but from them she’ll attempt to carve out an identity. The sentiments behind them and Iroh’s advice stay with her through every day of the rest of her life. 

_“Thank you”_

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to note that this isn't necessarily a romantic shipping piece, It all depends on how you want to interpret it. It could be about friendship equally as it could be about romantic love.  
> I'm considering to doing a short sequel to this exploring the impact of a world without Zuko, despite him being my favourite Avatar character, would people be interested in reading something like that?


End file.
